Falling
by mxmsupporter
Summary: When words mean less than a comfortable silence, you know that you've found your precious one.


**A/N:** Many thanks to Anon and Mellie for leaving heart-warming reviews. I've finished this story at 1.30 am so it may be a bit weird.

_Have you ever been so lonely,_  
_No one there to hold?_  
_Pull me in or disown me,_  
_And then climb inside_  
_My arms are open wide_  
_Have a look inside_

~ Blue October "Black Orchid"

Shy glances, occasional brushes of a hand over hand, knowing smiles... All this shit the ones in love do, all these signals of affection... If an outsider looked at the two, they should be able to see such things.

But things were never predictable with the two.

They couldn't care less about the things you _should_ do, rebels since the old times. However, that night something was different. Mello didn't know if this was about the second beer Matt'd been gulping down. He couldn't blame the alcohol completely as he didn't drink. That would hazy his mind and he never allowed himself to show weaknesses in front of anybody. Opening up in the world of Kira was a suicide.

Maybe it was about Near, then? The white-haired boy Mello had the questionable pleasure of meeting the day before?

"Heh, seems like everything is about that twit lately..." Mello thought bitterly, eyeing Matt from behind his blond fringe. The redhead's eyes were covered by orange lenses but the leather-covered blond could tell that his companion's been observing him for a while.

Neither of them started the conversation they obviously had to go through.

A couple of minutes and two cigarettes later Matt broke the routine.

"... Mello..."

That was all he ever said these days, after finding a nearly dead friend in a burnt warehouse. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration but the word fell from his tongue far easier that other. It always hung in the air like an open question, not really asking about anything.

Matt has changed, and Mello surely has too. But you know what they say... Maybe it's not about changing but steadily becoming yourself?

They kept glancing at each other, an innocent way to show interest. That night was different and Mello understood that in the way Matt leant to him, his eyes narrowed and lips forming a gentle smirk.

How could someone form something like that with their lips, he wouldn't know. He was too busy observing said lips to analyze.

Mello understood what it meant when Matt's hand reached out to brush over his own on his lap, the redhead's face now near his ear, tickling him with a warm breath. His chest tightened and his heart started beating more dramatically, hazing his mind with a rush of blood when his companion muttered "Let's dance...".

Everything stopped, what mattered was that hand leading him to the dance floor, these fingers squeezing his black-painted fingernails and these red hair in his sight. He felt like a heart attack could struck him at this moment, and he wouldn't even care.

Was that what enjoying yourself felt like?

Was that what not running after your goal for a moment felt like?

He tried to calm his breathing but the thumping of the blood in his ears wouldn't stop. Matt turned around and Mello saw in his eyes that they both had the same problem.

They were both breaking.

Was it good or bad, they hadn't got to know yet.

Mello refused to be dominated completely, so he started with a gentle, almost timid sway of his hips. His hands found themselves to lace on Matt's neck, pulling the redhead closer as Mello's eyes were scrutinizing his boots. The gamer took another step forward to the unknown, his hands resting on these sinful hips he's seen so many times and yet he couldn't get enough of. He was surprised by his own braveness.

But well, it was Mello.

Everything was comfortable with Mello.

Even their arguments or fist fights, everything felt familiar.

Felt safe, even if safety was only a dream of a desperate mind in the world of Kira.

Mello moved slowly, sensually, losing himself to the beat and to the human being that provided him heat. He felt drunk when he really wasn't, but that's how things were that night. Everything collapsed.

He finally rose his head to meet the orange plastic and suddenly wanted nothing more than to see these lips bruised by his teeth, these cheeks flushed and noises indecent. But this wasn't the time, he could wait.

He never really considered Matt becoming more that a friend but he never considered killing people to achieve his goal either.

Mello's fingers moved, slipping through the red strands. Matt half-closed his eyes like a petted dog and sighed, leaning into the touch. They were chest to chest now and the goggles fell forgotten onto Matt's neck. Nothing separated them now as each tried to get a deeper glance into the so-called reflection of soul. Mello breathed out, his lips mere centimeters from the other's...

"Hey, you two fags!"

The two separated, fingers still touching though. A tall, bald guy stood in front of them, arms crossed and brows furrowed.

"Not a good place you've chosen, _ladies_" he barked out a laugh, followed by his companions standing up slowly. Matt looked around. Yeah, like always Mello just _had_ to chose a scruffy bar where only bikers went. Not like he couldn't take over the place with just one glance but that night...

That night was unique.

* * *

Mello stumbled, crashing onto the wall and clawing at it with his fingers, now covered with dried blood. Matt followed him, muttering something and spitting. The blond ignored him, focusing on his legs taking another step and reaching the apartment door. They weren't closed as the neighborhood was practically empty and so Mello waltzed in, dragging Matt after him.

The blond leant heavily on the wall, feeling Matt's body covering his, pinning him down. They panted and hissed, feeling bruises throbbing and cuts reopening.

That's how a fight ended. They had been outnumbered so they barely made it out alive. That was one of the few bike rides Mello hadn't really enjoyed, with his partner clutching to his stomach and blood pooling in a nice patch of red on his head. They got him with a chair, cowardly fuckers.

Matt whimpered and steadied himself with a hand. His forehead stopped on Mello's when the two rested, eyes closed and chests heaving.

"... Mello..."

Again with the non-question question.

Mello opened his eyes, drowning in the ocean of green. He swallowed.

"Yeah?"

A hoarse whisper.

Matt looked him in the eye, never once blinking.

"We gotta..."

"Yeah"

They understood. And yet, neither wanted to break the comfortable position, to find reality under the thin layer of sweet imagination.

Sometimes it is just easier to remain still.

Mello carefully wrapped his arms around his friend, burying his face into the furry vest. He loved the scent emanating from Matt, the familiar mix of cigarettes, leather gloves and a tiny bit of sweat.

He brushed his cheek over the fabric and placed a feather-like kiss on the redhead's neck.

Matt swallowed but otherwise remained still.

They decided to finally move after a few minutes, constantly enjoying the other's heat. Bathroom lights blinded them when they entered the room.

It was so quiet.

Only the shuffling of the scattered clothing resounded in the air, everything else seemingly dead. They were truly alone and so each of them clawed onto some companion, the only choice remaining being the other.

Matt looked up to meet the icy-blues. Mello was naked and so was he.

He brushed a hand over the other's forearm and the blond shivered, half-closing his eyelids. Matt's fingers gently closed on Mello's arm and he guided him to sit on the bathtub.

They both needed to be healed.

Rubbing alcohol left a moist track on Mello's skin and the blond hissed, shutting up immediately. He felt like disturbing the silence was inappropriate.

The two still maintained eye contact.

Being naked surprisingly didn't leave them awkward or embarrassed. Even though it's been years since they saw each other like that, everything seemed right and natural.

It didn't matter: undressed or not, talkative or silent, good or bad. Nothing needed labels.

Matt looked Mello in the eye, finishing the bandaging of his head but not really wanting to end the contact. His fingers remained in the blond strands, caressing the skin beneath.

Mello stood up as Matt's wounds were already taken care off. His companion followed and the duo found themselves in front of each other. The redhead half-smiled and moved closer, chest to chest and tight to tight. He wrapped his arms around Mello's neck, still only looking at him. No arousement was risen, it was not what that night was about. After a while, Mello rose his hands and returned the embrace.

A few hours later, at 3 am in a city that never seemed to sleep, Mello walked around on a rooftop. Step by step, breath after breath...

He knew he wasn't alone even before he smelled tobacco.

"... Would you do that for me, Matt?"

He didn't dare to turn around yet, hands clenched into fists in the pockets of his jacket.

"... Yeah"

"Why?"

A simple question and yet the most difficult one. Matt breathed out the smoke, thinking for a while.

"You are filling the hole"

Mello looked at the redhead.

_Pathetic_.

_Don't you have your own life?_

And _thanks_.

_Thanks for not leaving when I need you_.

All these things were encrypted in that stare, and that was the language Matt loved to decode since his very first day at Wammy's.

He approached Mello, casting his cigarette off the roof. He followed it's flight route with his eyes.

So unimportant, forgettable even. Who would remember the fallen ones?

But it seems life isn't about being remembered.

Nobody will live forever. Everybody will turn into ashes and be forgotten.

Your grave will vanish, your soul had died with your body anyway...

Even the works of art you leave, all these little struggles you go through...

Your favorite color, favorite band and all the books you've read...

It's unimportant.

But if they change the life of only one human, if they provide a spark of thought in somebody's mind...

Then it was worth it, even if you will never truly feel it.

Everybody is broken a little in their own way.

"... Would you, really?"

"Yeah"

And as Matt's lips found Mello's for the first time, they fell from the rooftop together, feet still firmly on the floor.


End file.
